By Eric McCarthy 

It was a beautiful warm summer afternoon in June of 1986. My wife had just returned from working the morning shift at the local Filene’s Department Store and, as was her way, she had befriended her manager Linda and brought her home for an impromptu luncheon. I consider myself to be a people-person – I love to meet new people and discover common interests and experiences; Sandi is a people-magnet– she just has a way of striking up a conversation with just about anyone, anywhere. It’s one of her most endearing qualities and a wonderful trait that has served us well and brought us so many dear friends over the years.

We enjoyed our lunch and then pondered what to do for the rest of the afternoon. Ideas were not forthcoming until I suggested we go get an ice cream. Great idea! Little did they know whereI wanted to get an ice cream. They would have been forgiven if they thought I meant the great little ice cream parlor called Chadwick’s just down the street from our condo in Lexington, but needless to say, that wasn’t what I had in mind… that would have been much too simple.

Their first clue that things weren’t as they expected them to be was when I got on the highway – Chadwick’s was just a mile down Concord Avenue from our home – no need to take the highway.